


When Roslin Met Robb

by Nomme_de_Plume



Series: The Pursued, the Pursuing - AU [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: AU - 1920s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-05 05:00:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nomme_de_Plume/pseuds/Nomme_de_Plume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pretty much what it says on the tin. Set two years before 'The Pursued ,The Pursuing', 1920's AU set in the United States. Feedback is always welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Roslin Met Robb

Robb would never admit it to his parents, especially not his mother, but he hated visiting his Uncle Edmure at the mental hospital outside of Kingsport. Uncle Edmure had always been his favorite relative, not terribly older than himself and always willing to go fishing or give Robb a hand with his younger siblings when his parents went out. He always smiled, too. No matter what the situation, Uncle Edmure would always, always have a smile on his face.  
  
Then the Great War had come, and when Uncle Edmure came back from that he wasn’t smiling anymore. Robb vividly remembered the night his father, grandfather, and great-uncle Brynden had had to subdue Edmure, who’d been startled into a violent, frightening outburst by a car backfiring at the end of the driveway. His mother had given him a sharp look, and he’d herded his younger siblings upstairs so they wouldn’t have to see. That had been four years ago, and Uncle Edmure had been in the VA hospital ever since. He hadn’t spoken the first month, and the next six after that were full of distant stares and monosyllabic answers. Privately, Robb suspected the doctors were trying electroshock therapy, but he never found the nerve to approach his parents about it. He hoped his hunch was wrong, though. He’d seen what could happen to people with that, and Uncle Edmure... _He deserves better._   
  
The war was four years in the past, and while Edmure was very nearly back to his old self, he still went nearly gray every time a door slammed too loud, or a tray was dropped by an orderly. His doctors said that seeing loved ones helped, though, so every Sunday after church the Starks and Tullys trekked into the rolling hills outside Kingsport to the VA hospital and spent the afternoon with him.  
  
It was on one of these Sundays, probably the first really warm one of the year, that Robb wandered out into a lush, blooming garden. It was maintained by volunteers and some of the more stable patients, who found it theraputic. A few of them sat along benches and chairs, some talking, some just staring, and some painting. Nevertheless, it was quiet out here which was something Uncle Edmure’s room was not, not with nine other people in it.  
  
Robb sat down on an abandoned bench and slouched, resting his head along the back of it and tilting his face to the warm spring sunshine. Without opening his eyes he fished in his pocket for his pack of Red Apples, feeling it significantly lightened and silently cursing Theon.  _You better start buying your own, pal_ ... However, he only needed one cigarette, not a full pack. Striking a match on the edge of the bench, he’d just held it to the end of his ciggy when a shadow fell across him.  
  
“You can’t do that here.”   
  
Robb cracked a blue eye opened, already annoyed at the stern, girlish voice scolding him. The figure before him was backlit by the sun, but he could tell it was female, and short, and had hands propped on slim hips. Beyond that, though, it was anyone’s guess. “Why not?”  
  
“The smell. It angers some of the patients. And some of the volunteers. And you’re not even supposed to be out here, either. It’s only for patients. And volunteers. And doctors,” she added as an afterthought. “So scram.”  
  
Robb sighed and sat up, running a hand through his messy auburn curls. “Can’t I just have five minutes out here? That’s all I need, Miss, I swear.” He prayed she would just leave him alone, but much to his dismay, she plunked herself down right next to him, crossing one leg over the other and staring at him with an open frankness. She was pretty enough, he supposed, looking at her. She’d never be on any billboards, but with her classic oval face, peaches and cream complexion, and sparkling brown eyes, she was easy enough to look at for five minutes. The girl flicked the end of her long chestnut braid over her shoulders and arched an eyebrow at him.  
  
“What?” she said.  
  
Robb arched his right back. “I could ask you the same thing. What’re you doing?”  
  
“Sitting.” The girl smoothed her plain blue skirt over her knees. “Making sure you leave after five minutes, no more, and don’t disturb any of the patients or staff.”  
  
Robb chuckled once. “Which are you?”  
  
The girl straightened indignantly. “I am neither. I’m a  _volunteer_ . ” The emphasis she put on the last word made his smile grow, as if he should’ve been able to tell just by looking at her what her role was.  
  
Robb took a drag on his cigarette, careful to blow the smoke away from her face. “Do you have a name, or do you just respond to Volunteer?” He kept his tone gentle. He didn’t have the self-assurance that other boys his age had to get a girl’s attention by ribbing her.  
  
Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she was trying to figure out if he was teasing her or not, but eventually she nodded, a quick little bob that made a lock of hair slip out of her braid. “Roslin Frey.”  
  
_Frey_ . Robb was still fresh out of the Police Academy, wet behind the ears and so new at the Kingsport police department that he still couldn’t find the coffee maker, but even he knew the name Frey. They were their own low-class empire of thuggery, scrabbling in the gutters of society and filching their way through life. He was surprised at seeing one doing volunteer work, or any kind of honest work, truth be told, but he arranged his expression in carefully.  _Judge not_ . The words chimed in his head, left over from the sermon they’d heard that morning. With that in mind, he held his cigarette carefully between his teeth and extended a hand. “Robb Stark.”  
  
Roslin stared at his hand for a moment before shaking it with a firm grip. Robb was surprised to feel calluses along her fingertips and palm. “So who’re you visiting?” Roslin asked, pulling her hand out of his.

  
“My uncle. Edmure Tully.”  
  
To his surprise, Roslin nodded. “I know him. He’s a sweetheart, that one.”  
  
“He is?” Robb shifted on the bench, tapping ash off his cigarette. “That’s never a word I’d’ve associated with Uncle Eddy.”  
  
“Of course not.” Roslin gave him a slightly exasperated look. “It’s not a word most boys associate with anything, unless it’s a pretty girl. And he’s not a pretty girl.”  
  
Robb had to chuckle again. “No, you’re right there. So what exactly do you do around here, Miss Frey?”  
  
Her deep brown eyes flashed and narrowed again. “ Roslin . There are a dozen and a half Miss Freys out there, but I’m the only Roslin.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Mi-...Roslin.” Robb was slightly taken aback. Sure, he knew there were half a hundred Freys, but he didn’t know any of them were so insistent on being called by their first names. “What do you do here, Roslin?”  
  
She shrugged, crossing her feet at the ankles and fiddling with a loose thread on her dress. “Whatever’s needed. Changing linens, folding towels, answering the phone. The usual.”  
  
“What do you do for my uncle?”  
  
“Sergeant Tully? Mostly just listen.”  
  
“Listen?” Robb was starting to feel like a parrot, throwing Roslin’s words back at her. “Listen to what?”  
  
Roslin shrugged again, looking almost embarrassed. “Sometimes all these men need is someone to talk to. A lot of the time, actually,” she added thoughtfully. Before Robb could respond she glanced at her watch and jumped up. “Good grief, you’ve been here nearly twice as long as you’re supposed to be! Go on, get! I’ve got work to do!”   
  
Robb stood, bemused. “You can do your work; I’m not stopping you.” Roslin glared up at him, hardly coming to his shoulder, and he grinned yet again. He couldn’t help it - her annoyance with him was almost adorable. “Alright, I’ll go. My parents are probably looking for me anyway.” He pulled the glass door back to the hospital open for her, and she hurried through it. “It was nice meeting you, Roslin.”  
  
Roslin was pulling on a starched white apron, knotting it easily behind her. She threw him a quick, polite smile. “You too, Mr. Stark.” Without another word she hurried off down the hall, the end of her braid twitching. Robb watched her go, an amused smile on his face, and after a minute he turned and wandered back to his uncle’s room.  
  
The next Sunday proved no quieter than the previous one. Rickon, always teetering on the edge of hyperactivity and full-out manic episodes, toppled firmly into the latter and after neither of his parents, or his grandfather, or even his uncle were able to calm him, Robb found himself carting the boy out by the scruff of his neck, trying to muffle his howls and shrieks of rage by tossing him over his shoulder. He grit his teeth as Rickon bit him hard just under the shoulder blade. “Oh for Pete’s sake, Rickon...” Spying a door just ahead, Robb shoved it open and as soon as it had shut behind him, dumped Rickon on the ground unceremoniously. “There. Scream all you want now, there’s no one out here to hear you.”  
  
Robb glanced around and was surprised to see himself in the same garden, and fortunately he was right. There  was no one else out here, which was fortunate. Bringing a screaming, flailing boy in the midst of shell-shocked war veterans who required peace and quiet would be unwise. Rickon had thrown himself down on the gravel walk, scraping his knee in the process and tearing a hole in his new trousers. “I want  _Osha,_ not you!” he howled.  
  
“Osha’s not here, buddy.” Robb knelt next to Rickon and pulled out his handkerchief, dabbing at the blood streaming down his knee. “And now you’re going to have to explain to Nan why you have a hole in your brand new pants. She’s gonna be so sad.”  
  
“I don’t care.” Rickon rubbed his teary eyes with a grubby fist, his face the picture of belligerence. “I hate Nan.”  
  
Robb looked at him sternly. “Don’t ever say that, understand? Hate’s a strong word, too strong for someone as little as you.” Rickon glowered at him for a moment before opening his mouth again and screaming at the top of his lungs.  
  
Behind them Robb heard the glass door creak open and he flinched, preparing for one doctor or another to haul them out bodily and forbid the boy from coming back. To his surprise, a familiar form knelt next to him and took one of Rickon’s hands. “What’s got you all balled up, honey?”  
  
Robb glanced over, thanking his lucky stars someone else had come to his rescue, and as he looked upon the girl kneeling next to him, long chestnut braid swinging, his mind went blank and he completely forgot her name.  _No. Oh no. Oh shit, Robb get a hold of yourself, think! What’d her name start with, an N?...No...dammit...ah shit she’s talking to me._   
  
Sure enough, she’d fastened her honey brown eyes on him, eyebrows raised. “Huh?” Robb kicked himself.  Nice, Stark, very nice.  
  
She sighed. “I asked what happened. He’s bleeding. What’d you do to him?”  
  
“He pushed me!” Rickon piped up and in that moment Robb could’ve murdered him.  
  
“What-I- I never, you little beast!” Robb was indignant. He was flustered and he could feel his face burning. “What’d Mother tell you about lying, Rickon?” Rickon just stuck his tongue out, and Robb sighed, glancing back at his savior. “Sorry about all this. I’ll clean him up-”  
  
She shook her head. “Bring him in, I’ll wash that out and get him a bandage. Hate for it to get infected, right?” She turned back to Rickon and chucked him under the chin. To Robb’s amazement and annoyance, Rickon giggled adorably.  
  
“Robb, who’s she?” Two sets of eyes, one blue and one brown, turned to him, both expecting an answer, and Robb’s stomach clenched.  
  
“Uh..Rickon, this is...a friend.”  
  
“What’s her name?”  
  
_God almighty, boy, you’re killing me here_ . “Her name is...um...” Robb was floundering, sinking fast, and it couldn’t have been more obvious.  
  
“Roslin.” The girl said to Rickon, but not without a sharp glare at Robb. “My name’s Roslin. C’mon then.” With another displeased look at Robb, she swept the boy up on her hip. “If you’re good, and especially if you’re quiet, I’ll see if I can sneak you a sucker. How’s that?” Rickon nodded, and Roslin heeled the door open. Robb hurried to grab it and hold it for her, and she brushed past him with nary a glance. “And while we’re at it, I’ll teach you how important it is to remember people’s names!”  
  
Ten minutes later Roslin had sent Rickon toddling back towards Uncle Edmure’s room, his knee neatly bandaged and a sucker firmly in hand. Robb made sure he made it back to their mother before turning back to Roslin, rubbing the back of his neck. She looked up at him expectantly, her arms crossed over her chest. “Sorry about before...” Robb mumbled.  
  
“Which part?” Roslin asked tartly. “The part where you dragged a screaming banshee down a quiet ward, or the part where you forgot my name?”  
  
“Well- I...it’s not like we had a meaningful conversation, anyway!” Robb shot back. “I bet you don’t remember  _my_ name.”  
  
“Robb Stark.” Roslin said victoriously. “And you’re here visiting your Uncle Edmure, like you do every Sunday.”  
  
“Great.” Robb grumbled. “Well, if it makes you feel any better I sure as shootin’ won’t forget it now.”

  
“No, I’d wager not.” Roslin’s eyes glittered up at him, her jaw set.   
  
Robb stared at her a moment, knowing he should go back to Uncle Edmure’s room. But for some reason, that didn’t sound overly appealing at the moment. “So how’re...things?”   
  
Roslin’s eyebrows arched again, and not for the first time, Robb wanted to throw himself down a flight of stairs. “Which things?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Robb flailed for something else to say, and spied a linen closet far down the hall. “How’re the linens? You said you fold them.”  _Oh sweet Jesus. Theon’s going to laugh his ass off when he hears about this. Hell, he probably already is._   
  
“The linens are fine.” Roslin was looking at him oddly and he couldn’t blame her. Not at all. “Shall I tell them you said hello?”  
  
“Please do.”  _Uncle Edmure’s room. Go there. Now. Run, you fool! Just get away from her before she thinks you’re touched in the head!_ His mouth barreled on before his brain could stop it. “So why do you do this, anyway? Come here and do housework, basically? Can’t you do that at home?”  _Just stop talking, Robb, please_ ... With no small amount of effort, he managed to keep his mouth shut.  
  
The look on Roslin’s face was nothing short of incredulous, but she managed to smile and laugh politely. “I do it because I like it. And...” She paused, tossing away a spare bit of bandage. “I have a big family. Very big.” Roslin looked at her hands, looking suddenly a bit forlorn. “Sometimes it’s nice to talk to someone who’ll listen.”  
  
“I’d listen,” Robb replied before he could think, and when Roslin smiled at him this time it was a bit wistful.   
  
“Yeah, well...” Roslin sighed, but before she could continue the Stark clan emerged from Uncle Edmure’s room down the hall, and he realized it was time to go. Roslin saw too, and took a quick step away from him. “I should go, I’ve got things to finish up tonight.”  
  
“Listen,” Robb spoke quickly before his family could get too close, leaning slightly closer to her. “Thank you for helping with Rickon. He’s a bit of a handful sometimes, and-”  
  
Roslin shook her head, smiling again and warmer now. “It was nothing. Big family, remember? I’m used to it.” She bit her lip, lacing her fingers together. “Will you visit your uncle next weekend?”  
  
Robb’s stomach flip-flopped in a not entirely unpleasant way. He nodded a bit eagerly. “Yup, we should. Next weekend, yes.”  _Stop it_ ...  
  
Roslin’s smile hitched up another inch as Robb’s family reached them. “Maybe I’ll see you then.”  
Before Robb could form a coherent response Rickon flung himself at his legs, his silky auburn head banging into Robb’s groin while Bran flung his arms around Robb’s neck, sliding up his back piggy-back. “C’mon, Robb, gimme a ride!”  
  
Robb lurched and wrestled Bran into a position where he could loop his arms around his younger brother’s legs, and by the time he turned back to Roslin she was halfway down the corridor, long braid swinging. He couldn’t help but stare after her, totally unmoored by the sway of her slender waist. His father clapping a hand on his shoulder startled him.  
  
“C’mon, Robb.” His father gave him a knowing look, a smile quirking at the corners of his mouth. “They’re going to have dinner on when we get home, and we can’t be late.”  
  
The week seemed to drag on endlessly, and by the time Saturday afternoon rolled around Robb couldn’t take it anymore. He’d been thinking about Roslin’s smile all week, about the way her braid twitched and the sway of her narrow hips, and it was downright maddening. Finally, at four-thirty, he snatched the keys to the Caddy off the hook by the back door and trotted down to the garage. Theon had taken the Rolls, more than likely to spend some alone time with one of his lady friends, so Robb wasn’t particularly worried about having to explain anything him, but he figured he probably already had an inkling of what was on Robb’s mind.   
  
He eased the Caddy down the driveway and onto the main road, and within half an hour was trotting up the steps to the VA hospital. As Robb entered the lobby he realized he had no idea what to do now. Routine was incredibly important to Uncle Edmure, and if he went and visited him a day early it could throw a wrench in his recovery. But he couldn’t just stroll in and say he wanted to see Roslin, could he?  
  
The nurse sitting at the front desk smiled politely, but was a bit confused. “Thought your lot didn’t come till Sundays. Your uncle’s in a session right now, but if you want to wait...”  
  
Robb shook his head. “I was actually wondering if Roslin was here today?”  _So much for not strolling in and asking to see Roslin._   
  
The nurse’s eyebrows arched. “Roslin? ‘Course she’s here but she’s busy. Why, what’d she do this time?”  
  
“Do? Uh, n-nothing.” Robb stammered. “Listen, uh, I changed my mind. Can I wait for my uncle in his room?”  
  
The nurse jerked her head to the door. “Go on. Just don’t go poking around, understand?”  
  
“Yes ma’am.” Robb gritted his teeth at her slightly patronizing tone and hurried down the corridor before his hackles could get any higher. The hallway was largely empty, most of the doors closed, but as he strode past a nurse’s station he caught sight of a familiar figure sitting primly in a straight-backed chair, twisting the end of a long chestnut braid in a hand. Roslin had a phone receiver tucked against her shoulder, and Robb hung back, not wanting to eavesdrop. Her voice rose suddenly, though, and he couldn’t help but overhear.  
  
“No, Walder, that’s not  _fine_ . It’s at least a ten mile walk, in the dark, along a highway! I’m not going to walk, it’ll be dark soon!....no, I don’t have bus fare and I’m not begging off one of the doctors for it. Just come and-  _Walder_ , please...alright....just don’t tell Daddy I’m...oh. Alright. Fine.” The dread that filled her voice made Robb’s stomach dropped, and when she dropped the receiver back in the cradle he cleared his throat. Roslin jumped, her cheeks blazing when she saw him before her lips tightened. “How long were you there?  
  
Robb shook his head. “Not long, why?”  
  
“...nothing. Nevermind.” Roslin stood, straightening her shoulders. “I’ve actually got to go. My half brother was supposed to give me a ride but he changed his mind.”  
  
“Oh.” Robb was nonplussed. “Well, I’ve got a car here, why don’t you ride me? I mean ride  _with_ me?”  _Real smooth_ . His face burned as her eyes widened at first, and then she giggled briefly before her face fell.  
  
“That’s awfully nice of you, but I can’t.  It’s not that far a walk-”  
  
“It’s ten miles, you said!”  
  
Roslin’s cheeks tinged pink. “I thought you said you weren’t standing there long.” Robb tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged, not knowing what to say. “Aren’t you here to visit your uncle anyway?”  
  
Robb shrugged. “I’ll see him tomorrow. C’mon, Roslin, what kind of fella would I be if I let a girl walk home ten miles when I’ve got a perfectly good car just outside? It’ll take you hours.” She was thinking about it, he could tell. He leaned on the counter of the nurses station, trying for the charming smile he’d seen Theon use so many times. “C’mon. I  _want_ to take you home.”  
  
Roslin hemmed and hawed, but finally smiled shyly. “Alright, just let me get my things.”  
  
The first ten minutes of the drive were completely silent, and Robb was desperate for something to say. They kept exchanging glances, just barely missing each other’s gaze. Robb had one hand on the wheel, but no idea what to do with the other. He wound up resting it along the back of the bench seat, fingers just barely grazing Roslin’s braid. “So what do you do when you’re not visiting your uncle?” Roslin asked.  
  
“Hm? Oh, I’m a police officer in Kingsport.” Robb felt a small amount of pride - his father had started out as a patrol officer,  just like him, and now he was the Chief of Police. Robb hoped to mirror his father’s success, but he figured at nineteen, he still had a ways to go. “Just started in January.”  
  
A curious look passed over Roslin’s face. “A police officer...that figures. You’ll probably run into some of my family before too long, I’d wager.”  
  
“Yeah, the Freys have got a bit of a...reputation.” Robb was anxious to get off this topic. “What about you? What do you do when you’re not folding linens?”  
  
“School, mostly. I’m real busy this time of year.”  
  
“What’re you studying? You’d make a great nurse, I think.” Robb stopped at a red light and fished out a cigarette, going to light it before he remembered she didn’t like the smell.   
  
Roslin glanced over at him, giving another shy smile that made his heart stutter. “English, history, math, home ec...the usual.” She pointed. “Turn left here. And I meant high school, Mr. Stark.”  
  
“Robb. Mr. Stark’s my father. So, uh, what grade are you in?” Robb swallowed hard. He’d heard of a lot of men getting into trouble by getting caught with school girls.   
  
“My last. I’m graduating in June, and after that it’s off to Queenscrown. Hang a right at the next stop sign, yeah?”  
  
“Staying local then? That’s good.” Robb nodded, glancing over at her again.   
  
“Good? Please.” Roslin laughed a little bitterly. “Here, stop here.”  
  
Robb looked around, easing the car to the curb. “You live at a bus stop?”  
  
“No, you silly. I just...it’s just best if I walk the rest of the way. It’s not far, only a few blocks.”  
  
“But why?”  
  
Roslin held up a hand. “Just...please, Robb.” Her smile this time was small and sad as she turned to face him. “You seem like a nice boy, and...” She shook her head once, and before Robb could think of anything to say she was gone, shutting the door after her and running down the sidewalk.  
  
\---------  
  
  
“What does that even  _mean_ , ‘a nice boy’?” Hours later Robb sat on Theon’s scarred kitchen table, nursing a bottle of Coke while Theon sighted down a dart and Jon leaned against the countertop.  
  
Theon sighed and threw his dart, grinning sharply as it hit just right of the bullseye. “Do I look like the kinda fella girls call ‘a nice boy’, Stark? For Chrissake, just take her out or fuck her in a supply closet, just do  _something_ already.”  
  
“I have to agree.” Jon shouldered Theon out of the way and lined up his own shot. “You’ve been going on about this girl for hours. Either piss or get off the pot. It’s not like you’ve never had a girlfriend before. Remember Janie?”  
  
“And Daisy?” Theon added.  
  
“And Emily?”  
  
“And-”  
  
“Alright, I get the idea.” Robb set his Coke aside, glaring at Theon and Jon. “And Emily was in the first grade, I don’t think that counts.”  
  
“The point being,” Jon went on as if Robb hadn’t spoken. “You know how it goes. Worst she can do is say no.”  
  
“And laugh at you.”   
  
“Shut it, Greyjoy.” Robb stood and stretched, snatching a dart out of his hand. “Fat lot of help you two are.”  
  
\-------------  
  
The next day Robb didn’t see Roslin during his visit until the Starks were on their way out, and then he saw her slip into a closet, her hair falling in front of her face.  _Just ask her out, like Theon and Jon said. Worst she can do is say no_ . “I’ll...I’ll be out in a minute, Ma, alright?”  
  
His mother gave him a look. “I hate it when you call me ‘Ma’, Robb, but fine. Don’t be long; your brothers are antsy.”  
  
Robb trotted down the hall and pushed the closet door open, resolutely trying to push Theon’s idea of what he should do in a closet out of his mind. “Roslin?”  
  
She jumped, whirling around and nearly dropping the stack of sheets in her arms. “Robb! You scared me!” A shadow fell across her face in the poorly-lit closet, but Robb could’ve sworn he saw something. He took a step closer and furrowed his brow.  
  
“Sorry, but...what happened to your face?” An enormous bruise had blackened her eye, a thin gash running around the outside of it. Robb reached out a hand and gently touched it, his thumb running over her cheekbone, his stomach turning as she flinched. “Who did that to you?”  
  
“No one.” Roslin pulled her face away from his touch, turning away from him again. “What’re you doing in here? You’re going to get me in trouble.”  
  
“I wanted to ask you something, but...Roslin, look at me.” Taking her gently by the shoulders, Robb turned her to face him. She looked up at him, her jaw jutting out obstinately but her eyes gleaming a little too bright. Robb’s nerves fled before him, and a hot little knot formed around his stomach. “What happened? Tell me.”  
  
“ _Nothing_ , Robb.” Roslin took a step away from him, her back bumping into the shelves. “I just tripped going upstairs last night when I was going to bed.”  
  
Robb fought off the urge to roll his eyes. Even though he’d only been on the force six months, he’d already had his fill of terrified women and girls who ‘tripped’. “Roslin...”  
  
She swept her gleaming chestnut hair out of her face but in the same breath let it fall again, partially hiding the bruise marring her skin. “You said you wanted to ask me something - what?”  
  
“It doesn’t matter.” Robb shook his head, brushing  clump of auburn curls off his forehead. “What  does matter is you telling me what happened. Are you in trouble? Do you need help?” She sighed again. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me.”  
  
“Robb...” Roslin shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine. It was my older brother. Half-brother, I mean.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“He was upset...he and my father don’t approve of me spending time with boys.” Roslin smiled tightly. “Any time.”  
  
Robb was flabbergasted. “Spending time- Roslin, the alternative was for you to walk for 3 hours just to get home!”  
  
“Don’t yell at me, Robb, please!” The pleading tone in her voice brought Robb up short, and he saw her swallow hard. “I...I like you, Robb. I really do. A lot. You’re nice, and sweet, and funny even if I’m not entirely sure you mean to be, because sometimes you say things and it just sounds like they come out wrong and it makes you sound stupid but in a funny way, and you’re so handsome, but...” she shook her head, blinking furiously. “My father would never let me out with you. So just stay away from me, alright? Please...”   
  
Robb felt his shoulders drop, not really believing what he was hearing. “Maybe if I just talked to him-”   
  
But Roslin was shaking her head. “No, please, Robb. This...” she gestured to her cheek. “This’ll only get worse if you do. You know what kind of men are in my family. Everyone does, cop or not.” She blinked again, and Robb saw a silvery tear track down her cheek. “Just go, alright? And if you see me here next week don’t...just stay away from me. It’s better this way.”  
  
“Roslin-”  
  
“ _ Please , _ Robb.” Her voice broke finally. “Please. I’m begging you.” She gave him a light push towards the door. “Just go. Your family’s waiting.”  
  
Not knowing what else to do, and feeling like his stomach and heart had both plummeted through the floor, Robb turned and left her there pretending he didn’t hear her muffled sobs as he strode down the hall and hating himself for it.  
  
\-------------  
  
“Ahh, buck up Stark.” Theon clasped his hands behind his head, the two of them stretched out on Riverrun’s manicured back yard later that night. Robb gazed up at the night sky, watching the stars wink high above him and feeling like a brick, no, a crate of bricks had settled in his gut, and Theon was doing his best, Robb assumed, to make him feel better. “Where there’s one girl willing to work your knob there’s a hundred more.” Needless to say, it wasn’t working.  
  
“It’s not just that, and she never even  said  she’d do that, Greyjoy. It’s just...” Robb shrugged, feeling the grass tickle the back of his neck. “She’s being beaten. Her brother clocked her a good one just for getting a ride home. That’s not right, not at all. And even  _you_ can’t deny that.”  
  
Theon sighed. “That’s a tough spot, and I feel for the girl, but unless she comes to you for help, what’re you gonna do? Climb the trellis and carry her out over your shoulder?”  
  
“We’re sworn to protect and serve-”  
  
“And we can’t just barge in, even if you’ve seen bruises. You know that as well as I do.”  
  
Robb rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow. “Since when are  _you_ one for following the rules?”  
  
“I’m not.” Theon gazed up at Robb, his cigarette tip burning bright. “But you are. And if she got a shiner just for getting a ride home, imagine what’ll happen if we bust in there guns blazing?”  
  
“You’re right.” Robb flopped onto his back, frustration welling up until he felt like he wanted to punch something.   
  
“I love hearing you say that.”  
\-------------  
  
Spring faded into a pale, boiling summer, and still every week the Starks would trek down to the VA hospital and visit Uncle Edmure. He was doing so much better, that much was obvious. He would venture outside now for brief periods of time, tucking his sister’s or his nieces’ hand in the crook of his elbow and walking among the enormous elms on the property. Robb was happy for him, truly. Seeing his uncle able to smile and joke and laugh with the younger kids, and talk with the rest of his family, was heartening.   
  
Seeing Uncle Edmure’s recovery wasn’t the only bright spot to these visits, although it was the only one that wasn’t bittersweet. Robb saw Roslin nearly every week. Sometimes it was just a glance down a hallway, other times she would be outside with a patient while Uncle Edmure was on one of his walks. Most of the time she would determinedly avoid his gaze, but the few times their eyes did meet, Robb didn’t know if he felt like flying or if he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. It was small comfort to see that no more bruises blossomed on Roslin’s face, though, and he tried to console himself with that. More often than not, it didn’t work. He wanted to be with her, just to talk to her, make sure everything really was alright, but if he so much as took a step towards Roslin, she’d dart away like a frightened deer.  
  
Any other time, though, she was constantly smiling, laughing, talking with the patients or helping them with whatever project they were working on. Her small hands could hold a paintbrush, trim a bonzai, and press puzzle pieces into place with more grace and ease than Robb had thought possible, and she always focused her attention on the person she was with. Robb felt ridiculously jealous, and ashamed at the same time.  _These men have seen horrors you can’t even_ imagine .  _So what if she spares a few smiles for them? They’ve done more to deserve it than you ever will._   
  
Towards the middle of August, one of Uncle Edmure’s doctors sat down with the adults, Robb included, and told them that Uncle Edmure was finally well enough to be released. Arrangements had been made, and Robb’s uncle had been given a room with a few other fellow former Marines in an apartment downtown.   
  
Everyone was thrilled, Robb, again, included, but his smile was slightly tighter than everyone else’s, his congratulations to his uncle slightly more subdued. Much as he didn’t want to admit it, his first thought was of Roslin. With these weekly visits ending, so would any chance he’d have to see her again. The thought left him feeling slightly nauseated and before he knew what he was doing, he stood somewhat abruptly and excused himself, citing a need for a drink of water.  
  
Robb hurried past the drinking fountain, though, pacing down one hallway after another and peering in whatever open closets he found until he caught a glimpse of a long chestnut braid in the garden, now filled with clouds of hydrangeas and other flowers Robb wouldn’t have been able to name to save his life. Squaring his shoulders, Robb pushed the door open and seized her arm before she could run. “Roslin.”  
  
She spun to face him, her face taut with fear, until she saw him. “Robb, I told you -”  
  
Robb shook his head. “Just listen. Give me five minutes, alright? Just that and then I’ll be gone.”  
  
Her arm tensed under his grip, but after half a minute and a furtive glance over his shoulder, Roslin relaxed and nodded. “Over here.” She wrapped her hand around his wrist and tugged him to a corner shaded by one of the elms, surrounded by lilac bushes long past blossom. There was an ancient wrought-iron bench tucked against some of the branches, and Roslin perched on it lightly, her fingers still clamped on his wrist. “Five minutes, no more.” Robb nodded and sat next to her, shifting her hand into his. It was so small, boned as delicately as a bird’s wing, and so warm in his. It felt exactly as he’d imagined it would. He turned to face her, and had to restrain himself from brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. She bit her lip and said pointedly, “Four and a half minutes.”  
  
“My uncle’s leaving.” Robb blurted out. Her hand jerked in his, but her fingers remained curled around his. He ran his thumb over her knuckles, wondering what else to say. “He’s being released on Tuesday. So...I won’t be here next week, or the week after, or at all anymore.”  
  
Roslin nodded stiffly, glancing away. “That’s good. I’m happy for him.”  
  
“I...I still want to see you, Roslin.”  
  
The look she gave him was pained. “You know I can’t, Robb. My father’ll never allow it.”  
  
“Only if he knows.” The words were out of Robb’s mouth before he could stop them, as was the surprisingly harsh laugh that burst out of Roslin.  
  
“He’ll know, Robb. He knew you gave me a  _ride_ , for Pete’s sake. He knows everything that goes on near his house. Him and my older brothers.”  
  
“Well what can I do then?” Robb’s frustration was welling up again, and it made his tone harsh. Roslin gave the tiniest flinch, and he immediately regretted it, forcing his anger down and making his tone gentle again. “All I want is to see you. Tell me what I have to do, and I’ll do it.”   
  
Roslin bit her lower lip, dragging it through her teeth, and not for the first time all Robb wanted to do was kiss her. Just as he found himself leaning in, though, she looked up at him, a determined look in her eyes. “Wait.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Are you deaf? That’s what I’m telling you to do. I’m starting college in a few weeks, and I’ll be living on campus instead of at home, so...wait. Wait for me. Once I’m not living at home anymore, my father won’t be able to keep such a tight leash on me and if I want to run down Parkwell Avenue stark naked, he wouldn’t be able to stop me.” Her face fell somewhat. “Well, not to say he wouldn’t  hear about it, because I’m sure he would and if he got his hands on me he’d beat me bloody but the point is he would not be able to stop me from doing that, just like he wouldn’t be able to stop me from, say, seeing you if I wanted. Which I do, even if he  _does_ beat me bloody. So...yes.”  
  
Robb got the impression her little speech was something she didn’t do often, judging by the surprised look on her face when she was done. Personally, his head was spinning trying to follow her logic, but her fingers tightened around his as she slid closer, and then his head was spinning for an entirely different reason. “If all I have to do is wait, I can do that.”   
  
Roslin nodded firmly and unexpectedly leaned her head against his shoulder. When he inhaled he could smell her shampoo, subtle and sweet and heady. _ How do they  do that, smell so good? It doesn’t make any sense. If I smelled like that I’d get laughed straight out of the stationhouse. _ Roslin’s head shifted and she craned her neck to look up at him. “Well?”  
  
“Well what?”  
  
She pressed her lips together and sighed. “Are you going to kiss me, or do I have to do  _everything_ myself?”  
  
Robb felt his insides lurch as a whole, and it took him a moment before he trusted himself to speak. “Wouldn’t that get you in trouble?”  
  
“Only if you go around blabbing.” She straightened and looked at him, her expression hard to read. “If you don’t want to-”  
  
Robb had heard enough. He cupped her face before she could say another word and kissed her gently, but insistently. His senses were flooded with her; her sweet scent, the way she tasted of cinnamon, the warm silkiness of her skin under his hands, her soft gasp of surprise. Her lips moved under his, and he felt one delicate hand move to the curve of his neck. His pulse raced, but far too soon she was pulling away, cheeks flushed and a faint smile playing around her lips.  
  
“So you’ll wait then.”  
  
Robb nodded, feeling a bit foolish. “As long as it takes.” He chewed the inside of his lip, thinking. “Do you have a pen?” She handed him one out of an apron pocket and he fished around in his wallet, yanking out a faded, wrinkled piece of paper. He scrawled two exchanges on it and pressed it into her palm. “The first one’s my house, the second one is the precinct. You call me the second you can, or if anything...if you need anything.” He finished, brushing the spot on her cheek that had been so bruised before. “I mean it, understand? Especially if your father or brothers give you any more trouble.”  
  
Roslin glanced down at the scrap, folding it carefully. Her smile faded as she turned it over, and she looked up at Robb, her brows knitted. “What’s this?”  
  
Robb snatched the paper back, flipping it over and feeling his jaw drop in horror. He’d scribbled his numbers on the back of a picture of his last girlfriend, one that he’d forgotten he even had. He scrabbled for a response. “That’s...uh...Janie...I honestly forgot I had that, Roslin, I’m so sorry. I haven’t seen her in a year. More, actually. 13 months, maybe. Here, I’ll just take that...” He went to grab the paper back, but Roslin snatched it out of his grasp, laughing.   
  
“I don’t think so, Robb! You can’t do that, give a girl your number and tell her to call you  _anytime_ , and then try to take them back. No sir, this is mine now!” She giggled and jumped off the bench, tugging his hand until he rose. “Now get out of here before you  _do_ get me in trouble.” Roslin stood on her tiptoes and kissed him fleetingly, turning to hurry back into the hospital, but Robb caught her around the wrist and pulled her back to him, pressing his lips to hers one more time. Her fingers tangled in his hair this time, nails scraping lightly against his scalp and it was all Robb could do to not throw her into the bushes and have his way with her right there. After a minute Roslin pulled away, still fingering his curls.  
  
“I’ve wanted to do that since the day I met you,” Roslin admitted breathlessly. “Play with your hair. It’s  so curly...”  
  
Robb laughed and kissed her again. “Call me then, when you can, and you can play with it any time you want.”  
  
“ _Any_ time?” Roslin looked dubious and coy at the same time. “Even at two-thirty in the morning?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“What about the middle of dinner?”  
  
“As long as my ma doesn’t pick up the phone. She likes us to eat together.”  
  
“...what about-”  
  
“Roslin, any time means  _any_ . ” Robb was grinning from ear-to-ear, and she was giggling as she nodded.   
  
“Any time then.”


End file.
